Doppelganger
by Lavender of the Shire
Summary: What if Lyta Alexander had survived the Telepath War.


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This story is what I think could have happened had Lyta Alexander survived the telepath war. Since I've read the Psi Corps books I know that as far as the general population of the galaxy knows, she died, but I think she should have lived, and this is my way of letting her live without messing up the cannon plot too badly. It may also be a while before I update, but I wanted to post this to test the interest in this story.

Disclaimer: No characters or settings from Babylon 5 belong to me. All I own is the plot.

The woman studied her face in the mirror. She didn't recognise herself. Jet-black hair cut just above the shoulders. She'd heard that her great-great-great-grandmother had had black hair. She'd also heard rumours that Desa had led a rather colourful life before joining the MRA. Nothing official of course, but stories had passed down through the generations. It wasn't the hair that bothered her though. It was the eyes. People changed their hair colour all the time. Eyes were supposed to be permanent, though. All her life she'd had brown eyes, dark eyes. Looking at herself now, with blue eyes, was like looking at a stranger.

"Well? Zack asked behind her.

"It's. . .different," she said slowly. "I look. . .not like me."

"Well, that is the general idea," Zack said gently. "I mean, you're not Lyta Alexander anymore. You're Willow MacMurray. Stephen'll be here with your I.D. soon."

"I know. So what do I do now?"

"Well, there's nothing to stop you from living as a normal, and Stephen did get you a job as a lab assistant."

"I know. Still. . .I've never actually had a job that doesn't involve telepathy. Pretty sad, isn't it? All my life I've sold my talents for a living and now I'm denying that they even exist."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am. That's what it's called when you say, 'No I'm not a telepath,' even though you're a P12 plus."

"Lyta--Willow, it's not like. . .were you happy when you were doing that? Selling your telepathy day in, day out?

She shook her head. "No, not really."

"Then don't look at it as denying that you're a telepath. You can still use your abilities for some stuff. Look at it as not letting your telepathy define who you are. You can be anything you want now. What do you want to be once you get your feet under you?"

"I don't know. I know that I don't want to be a lab assistant for the rest of my life. Don't get me wrong. It's a good job, and I'm grateful to Stephen for getting it for me. I've just spent a little too much time in labs already."

Zack nodded, and thought for a moment. "You could be a teacher."

Lyta almost laughed. "A teacher?" She turned to face him. "Zack, can you honestly picture me standing in front of a class teaching a bunch of kids how to read?"

"Not right now, no, but after a year of teacher's college maybe, and I can picture you in front of a high school class teaching business or something."

"Not business. I was never really interested in business."

"But you were a commercial telepath."

"I know. That was not my first choice."

"So, what are you interested in?"

"Remember when I told you that I interned with the Psi Cops as a field assistant?" It was more or less a rhetorical question, but she still paused to permit him a slight nod before continuing. "I've always been interested in science, and the social sciences--psychology in particular. I have the Psi Corps equivalent of a Bachelor of Science degree with a major in biology and a minor in psychology."

"I'm assuming Stephen made sure you have the appropriate credentials."

"Yes. I'm not sure joining a police force would be a good idea right now, but maybe I can find a job I like in one of those fields eventually."

Zack nodded. "Teaching is good, honest work. It's important, and working with kids would probably do you a world of good."

"I appreciate the thought, but my experience with kids is. . ." she trailed off, looking for the right word.

"Limited," Zack supplied.

"Limited implies some experience. I think non-existent is more accurate."

"You must have some."

"Living on Babylon 5? Working for the Corps? No, my experience with children is limited to when I was one."

"Well, I could hire you for security on Babylon 5--investigative stuff--but I think you'd be happier as a teacher. I don't know. It kind of seems to suit you."

Lyta sighed. "Do you really think I'd be a good teacher?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer. The idea was growing on her, whether she liked it or not, and Zack's opinion meant more to her than she cared to admit.

Zack put a hand on her arm, slid it down to her hand, met her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I know you don't have a lot of experience with anyone under twenty, and I know you're probably sick of being told what to do, but. . .Be teacher, Lyta. If not high school then younger kids."

"So in other words, find a teacher's college near the hospital."

"Yeah. I'll visit when I can."

"I'm scared."

"I know, but you'll be fine. If you need anything, just call."

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Please review and let me know what you think.


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